


How the Winds Shift

by thesmallchameleon



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Falls, Gen, Reverse Pines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesmallchameleon/pseuds/thesmallchameleon
Summary: When a pair of mysterious twins come to Gravity Falls, they seem to introduce a swath of unexplainable phenomena to the sleepy town. But did they truly bring it, or has it been there all along?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it as. A reverse falls fanfic in the year of our lord 2018.
> 
> I’ve been getting really into it lately, and this is just my take on the AU. I’ve seen so many interpretations of how it might be, and I really enjoy them all.

Gideon was wiping down the counter when the doorbell jingled.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack,” he said reflexively, not looking up from his work.

”One of your finest mystery please!” 

Gideon looked up and grinned. 

“We’ll ain’t this just a treat,” he put down the cloth for a moment to give Pacifica a hug. “It’s good to see you Paz. What are you doing back already?”

Pacifica gave him a squeeze, then pulled back to reveal a bright smile.

“The girls and I decided to cut the trip a day early. It’s supposed to rain pretty bad tonight.” 

Gideon frowned.

“Well that’s a right shame.”

Pacifica’s smile didn’t dim.

“It’s fine, really. Besides, I missed you!” Pacifica hopped up to sit on the counter. “I wish you could have come. We found these weird mushrooms and Candy caught, like, a lot of frogs.”

Gideon finished wiping down the counter and started to organize the post cards in the wire rack. Someone had managed to mix them all around when he wasn’t paying attention.

“That sounds fantastic,” he said genuinely, “but you know how it is with the shack.”

Pacifica sighed and flopped back on the counter.

“I know, I know,” she said, “but still. You spend all of your time working. We never get to do anything fun anymore.”

“I’m sorry darlin’,” Gideon said with a sigh, “but business has been slow. And it’s only getting slower. Daddy’s tried everything he can, but people just aren’t turning up like they used to. And since we had to let Robbie go… there are just too many shifts and not enough… us.”

“Maybe if you let me help for once…”

“Absolutely not,” Gideon said as he went to restock the snow globes. “It’s not fair to make you help out around here without pay.”

Pacifica crossed her arms.

“You don’t get paid,” she said with a pout.

“That’s different,” Gideon said, pointing a finger at her from amid the armful of snow globes he carried precariously to the shelf. “It’s a family business. If I’m gonna be in charge of this place one day I’ve got to know how to run it.”

An uncharacteristic silence fell over Pacifica as Gideon slid the last snow globe into place. He turned to look at her curiously, and immediately regretted it.

“Aw come on now Paz, don’t do that.”

Pacifica sniffed.

“It’s just. This could be our last summer together. Who knows what’s going to happen after high school ends? I just want to spend time with you before it’s too late.”

Gideon sighed.

“Okay, tell you what. I’ll talk to daddy, see if I can get the weekend off. We can watch TV, go monster hunting. Whatever you want.” He gave her a small sad smile. “Just, don’t start with the waterworks or we’ll be two crying fools.”

Pacifica sniffed again. 

“Can you close up early tonight?”

Gideon glanced at the door nervously. The shack was supposed to stay open for another half-hour. But it had been such a slow day… the chances of someone coming in in the next thirty minutes were slim. 

“Fine,” he said.

Pacifica’s face broke into a bright grin once again and she whooped loudly.

Gideon rolled his eyes at her antics and started closing up. He wasn’t quite done when Pacifica started tugging on his sleeve to go into the house. He chuckled.

“It’s good to see you Paz,” he said quietly as she gently dragged him away from the gift shop.

“You know it is,” she said, throwing him a wink. 

Within ten minutes, Pacifica had them situated on the floor in front of the TV with an assortment of snacks laid out in front of them. Gideon was opening a bag of cheese puffs when the sound of the front door opening and closing broke through the opening jingle of Private InvestiGator. 

Pacifica reached over without looking away from the screen and dug out a fistful of cheese puffs. 

“Hey Gid,” Bud said as he entered the living room. “And Ms. Northwest.”

Pacifica waved cheerfully, her hands coated in orange powder. Bud chuckled. Gideon looked over his shoulder.

“Hey Daddy,” he said. “How was the auction?”

Bud sat down heavily on the couch, slipping off the fake eye-patch he wore when he played Mr. Mystery. 

“It was fine,” he sighed. “I thought maybe those wax figures would go for a bit more, but at least they sold.”

Bud dogged his fez and ran his hand over his balding head. When he caught he worried expression on Gideon’s face, he froze and forced a smile. 

“Aw come one,” he said, leaning over to ruffle Gideon’s hair. “Don’t you worry none. We’ll make it through just fine. What are y’all watching?”

Gideon turned back to the TV.

“Just this dumb show…”

“Hey!” Gideon found himself suddenly assaulted by a shower of popcorn from an indignant Pacifica. “Do not insult the intelligence of the world’s greatest reptilian private eye.”

Gideon and Bud both chuckled. Gideon settled back, grateful for the lightened mood. Pacifica smiled in a way that told him she knew what she had done.

“Pass me a Pit Cola, won’t you dear?” Bud said. Pacifica tossed a can over her shoulder. Bud caught it and cracked it open.

“How was the shop? Did you close up alright?” 

Gideon rolled his eyes.

“Went as smooth as peanut butter.”

“Gross,” Pacifica commented.

“Just because you like chunky abominations in your peanut butter doesn’t mean the rest of us have to—“

“Wait shut up,” Pacifica cut him off, thrusting a salty hand over his mouth. Gideon followed her gaze to find it fixed on the television. Private InvestiGator had cut to a commercial break. 

The screen was a dark royal blue curtain. A voice spoke over low suspenseful music.

“Coming soon to Gravity Falls, a spectacle unlike any other…”

“That voice…” Bud started pensively. Gideon and Pacifica shushed him. 

A flock of doves burst from one corner of the screen and the curtain was gone, revealing a stage with two figures silhouetted against bright stage lights: one female and one male. The music began to build.

“Witness magic.”

A burst of blue flame shot from the boy’s hands. The flames appeared to transform into a shower of cards which rained down across the stage.

“Danger.”

The female figure drew three sharp knives and threw them with deadly accuracy, catching three of the raining cards out of the air and pinning them to the wall of the stage. 

“And mystery.” The figures turned to face each other. “Experience the inexplicable. Come see the Mystery Twins in the Tent of Telepathy.”

The figures clasped hands as times and dates of performances appeared on screen. 

“Hey, that’s tomorrow!” Pacifica said, bouncing on her knees.

The blue curtain fell again across the screen. The music grew quiet once more.

“A world of mystery awaits.”

For a moment, Gideon and Pacifica sat in stunned silence as a bright and peppy cereal commercial played in the background.

“We have to go see them!” Pacifica jumped to her feet in her excitement. Gideon grinned.

“Seems like it’s quite something, didn’t it?”

“Did you see that? With the fire, and the cards, and the birds?”

Gideon laughed. 

“I was sitting next to you the whole time Paz.”

“Hmm.”

Gideon glanced over at Bud, and was surprised to see him frowning. 

“Everything alright?” he asked.

Bud pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“I’m sorry kids, but I don’t think I want y’all going to that show.” 

“What?” Pacifica cried. “Why not? It’s, like, the coolest thing ever!”

Bud shook his head. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Doesn’t it seem like a bit of a scam to you?”

“Well of course it’s a scam,” Gideon said. “It’s not like they’re doing real magic after all.”

Bud still didn’t look convinced. After a moment, Pacifica sat down with a huff. 

“Fine,” she said. “We don’t have to go.”

Gideon raised his eyebrows and stared at her, thoroughly surprised at how quickly she dropped the issue. She locked her eyes on the TV and wouldn’t look at him. He figured it must be the disappointment.

“Sorry Paz,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you for listening to me,” Bud said. “You kids are really growing up, and pretty soon you won’t have to listen to a word I say, so thank you for taking my advice into account.”

All three fell silent when Private InvestiGator came back on. About halfway through the episode, Bud hefted himself to his feet and headed towards his office. As soon as he was out of earshot, Pacifica turned to Gideon with a mischievous grin.

“There’s no way we’re not going to that show,” she said.


	2. Chapter 2

Bud was happy to let Gideon take the weekend off. And after a few vague excuses about going to Greasy’s for some breakfast-for-dinner, Gideon and Pacifica were home free. 

It hadn’t been hard to find the address of the lot where the Tent of Telepathy had been set up. When Gideon and Pacifica arrived, there was already a long line out of the entrance. Gideon checked his watch. They were good on time, but they had been right to show up on the early side. Pacifica bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet as they waited. 

They bought tickets from a large man who spoke little. His name tag read “Jesus.” Gideon thanked him.

Pacifica grabbed his hand as soon as he had the tickets and practically dragged him inside of the tent. Gideon rolled his eyes fondly. They found two seats not too far from the front right next to the center aisle. Pacifica deposited Gideon and told him to save their seats before running off to buy snacks. Gideon looked around the tent while he waited for her to get back.

The tent itself was a dark royal blue and not unlike the circus tents that would often come to Gravity Falls in the autumn, though considerably smaller. The rows of folding chairs were lined up to face a stage with rich blue curtains that matched the tent itself. The whole tent was lit, but relatively dimly, creating a somewhat mystical mood. It seemed to have the intended effect, as the audience was uncharacteristically quiet for a Gravity Falls crowd. Conversations were lowered to a relative hush. Gideon was impressed, and couldn’t help but take a few mental notes of ideas for the Shack. The “Mystery Twins” were a traveling act after all. Gideon was sure they wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a few ideas here and there.

Pacifica returned just as the house lights were lowering. She thrust a box of raisinettes into Gideon’s lap as she sat down, squealing with excitement. 

For a few moments there was only darkness. The crowed had hushed completely, the growing tension almost tangible. And then, a single blue light appeared. It seemed to hover in the air, somehow glowing but shedding no light on any of its surroundings. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light split in two. 

“Welcome,” said a voice that seemed to belong to the darkness itself. “Welcome, gentle audience, to a world of mystery.”

The voice was male, soft and subdued. Even so it carried through the tent as though its owner were standing beside each member of the audience and whispering it in their ear. 

“Tonight, you will witness events that can’t be explained.” A different voice spoke. This one was female, higher pitched, more confident. “For to justify them by human understanding would be impossible.”

“We ask that tonight, you put aside all expectations of how the world works…” the male voice said.

“…and trust only in what you can see with your own eyes,” said the female voice. 

“because if you can’t believe what you see…”

“how can you see what you believe?”

Lights suddenly illuminated the stage, and the blue glowing orbs were gone. The owners of the voices were nowhere to be seen. Gideon glanced around for a speaker system, but couldn’t see one. It must have been concealed. 

“Dearest brother, I do hope this is a good show.” A voice rang out through the audience. 

“Perhaps we wasted our money,” a flat voice replied. “The performers appear to be late.

The shunk of a spotlight going on drew the audience’s attention away from the stage. The spotlight fell on two seats towards the back, where a young man and woman with matching curly brown hair reclined with practiced ease and theatrical impatience. The audience members seated around them gaped. 

They wore all black and royal blue. The girl was dressed in a leotard and waistcoat. A black headband adorned with a smooth teal gemstone sat atop her head. The boy was similarly dressed, in slacks and a more masculine-cut waistcoat. A gem affixed to his bolo tie matched his sister’s headband. 

“I’m sure you and I could give a much better performance,” said the young woman after the audience had had a moment to drink in their appearances.

“Think so?” the young man said. 

“Certainly.”

He shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

The spotlight went out. 

“I hope you excuse our theatrics.” The boy’s voice suddenly came from the stage. When the audience turned, there they were, standing side-by-side as if they had been there all along. 

“Brother dearest, that is why they came after all.” The girl laid a precise hand on his arm, giving the crowd a generous smile. 

The boy put his hand over his sister’s.

“If they wanted mere theatrics, they could have gone to any show in town,” he said. His stoicism chipped into a faint smile. “No, this audience is special.”

“Then they deserve only the very best,” she declared, throwing her head back a little with pride. She stepped forward, opening her arms to the crowd.

“One more time, welcome to the Tent of Telepathy.” She gestured to the young man. “I’d like to introduce my dear brother Mason.”

Mason took a modest bow. The audience clapped and teetered at his genial reserve. When the applause ended he presented his sister.

“Please put your hands together for my sweet sister, Mabel.”

Mabel’s bow was more extravagant, her arm sweeping out to the audience in welcome. Again the crowd applauded with a few delighted giggles at her charming charisma.

“Why don’t we start off the night with a bit of music, brother?” Mabel said when the applause had died.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

From seemingly nowhere, Mason produced a handful of thin silver rods of varying lengths and thicknesses. He let them roll a bit and spread them out on the gloved palm of his hand for the audience to see. With flourish, he tossed them into the air between himself and his sister, where they became suspended, like magic, in the air itself. A hushed gasp arose from the audience. The twins walked among the suspended rods, shifting them and placing them in the air. When they were placed to some proper disarray unknown to the audience, the twins each stepped to one side. 

“The first note,” Mabel announced, waving her hand for Mason to proceed. 

Mason produced a small glass bead from thin air and held it up for the audience to see. He flicked it into the air above the arrangement of silver sticks, and it hung, suspended for a moment. Then, with a snap of his fingers, it fell, hitting one of the silver sticks on its way down and producing a soft ringing tone. If it ever touched the ground, it made no sound. For a moment, the tent was absolutely silent save for the ringing note fading into nothingness. 

“And now, symphony.” Mabel gestured once more towards her brother, like a maestro beginning a piece. 

Mason raised his hands in the air and suddenly tiny glass beads were raining from the ceiling, hitting the silver sticks as they fell, and producing a beautifully haunting, twinkling melody. The beads seemed to disappear before reaching the stage itself, as none rolled around or spilled over the side. They looked like falling stars and bounced like raindrops off of the silver spears, plunking out notes one by one.

Gideon watched in rapt fascination, along with the rest of the audience. It was mesmerizing, beautiful, and beyond all explanation, just as the twins had promised. 

The melody drew to a close suspending for a moment before the last note. Mason lowered his hands and a final bead dropped, hitting the bar closest to him. He reached out and caught the bead effortlessly as the last note rang out, and closed his hand around it. For several long moments the audience sat in perfect silence. And then the applause began. 

Mason took a bow as Mabel began collecting the silver rods, plucking them out of the air one by one. 

When the applause died down, Mabel handed the sticks to Mason, who took them offstage. Mabel took center stage.

“I’m afraid I have to admit that I don’t have the same musical talent as my brother,” she said. Mason returned to the stage, drawing behind him a large wooden board, upright on a stand. He leaned against it casually as Mabel continued. “But where he excels in the intellectual…”

Mabel suddenly drew a long silver knife from her sleeve and threw it with deadly accuracy. The audience gasped in fear as it plunged into the board, right next to her brother’s head and quivered where it stuck. A small smile appeared on his unflinching face.

“I have more… physical talents.”

Mason stood up straight and spread his arms out to his sides. Gideon’s fingers gripped the edge of his seat as Mabel drew another knife. This time holding it up for the audience to see first. The blade was long and silver, ending in a deadly looking tip, and set into a blue stone handle that ended in a ring. She tossed the knife into the air, where it spun for a moment as the audience held its breath, then caught it with practiced ease in her other hand. As soon as the knife was in her hand, she spun it on her finger by the ring and launched it once again towards her brother. This one landed an inch or so from his neck. The relieved exhalation from the audience was audible. 

Mabel produced two more knives and threw them simultaneously. They landed on either side of Mason’s chest.

She drew one last knife and tossed it again, turning in a pirouette as it flipped in the air, then caught it mid spin and threw it full speed at Mason’s hand. Someone in the audience shrieked as it appeared to piece his palm. Mason blinked his eyes open and looked to his hand. The knife hadn’t even grazed him, landing perfectly between his first and second fingers, a hair’s breadth from their junction. 

When Gideon realized this, he found his head tipping back in relief. It seemed the entire crowed released the same sigh of impossible relief.

As the show progressed the twins’ acts only grew more extravagant and spectacular. Mason built a shifting, shimmering city from sparkling silver sand. Mabel preformed acrobatics, flips and twirls, amongst bursts of red hot flame that cast a gentle warmth throughout the tent. Where Mabel’s death defying stunts drew gasps and squeals, Mason’s enrapturing spectacles commanded a hushed awe, almost palpable in the tent.

They finished with a dance, a fluid unification of the best elements of both of their techniques and personalities. Sparks danced on Mabel’s heels as she spun, glittering snow fell from Mason’s fingertips, showering the stage like glittering confetti. When they struck their final pose, the audience was entirely silent for several seconds, as if by delaying the applause, they could draw out that moment, spend just a few more moments in the world the Mystery Twins fabricated just for them.

And then the clapping began and seemed to never end. As Gideon stood amongst the rest of the crowd, slowly drawn out of the spectacle himself, he couldn’t help but notice the faces around him. Gravity Falls wasn’t a trusting town. Tourists were greeted with plastic smiles, regarded as a source of profit and little more. Traveling acts were received with suspicion, evaluated by the unspoken jury composed of every business in town to see if they would draw more tourists, or create competition. This was different. Cheers and whistles rang through the audience. Literal tears were running down local enthusiast Tyler Cutebiker’s face. It was clear that in a mere hour, the Mystery Twins had captured the hearts of everyone in the room. And with how fast word traveled in the sleepy town, it wouldn’t be long before they were Gravity Falls’ local sweethearts. 

Maybe it was the skeptic in him. Maybe it was the suspicious tendency planted in him from a young age by the strange town he had grown up in. Maybe it was the notion of potential competition. But as Gideon watched the twins take one final bow, their hands laced together, a single question suddenly struck him, slowly turning the elated smile on his face to a dubious frown.

What were they doing _here_?

Gravity Falls was a tourist trap. A pit stop for nuclear family road trips to stretch legs and waste money on kitschy roadside attractions. The food was greasy, the cell service questionable, and the entertainment cheep. The Mystery Twins had an act worthy of reality TV shows, or Vegas. The pyrotechnics alone must have cost a fortune. And yet, they were here. Preforming in a tent in an old lot and selling $12 tickets to tourists and locals.

Why?

As the twins exited, arm in arm, Gideon could have sworn that for a split second he caught Mason’s eye. A shiver ran through him.

Pacifica raved from the moment they got up from their seats and through the whole process of exiting. 

“Did you see what she did with those knives? And all that fire! The flips! God, the flips!”

Pacifica shook him by the shoulders as they stood outside of the tent. Gideon laughed, relax from that moment of suspicion and letting his friend’s enthusiasm override any paranoia he might have felt. That’s what it was after all: paranoia. People told him that all the time. 

“It was impressive,” Gideon allowed. Pacifica shoved him a little.

“Yeah it was!” 

Gideon laughed.

***

A young woman watched from the shadows. A small smile curled on her lips. After a moment she pushed off the banister on which she leaned and retreated back into the tent. She went past the stage to an opening in the back that led out to two trailers parked in the lot. She entered the one she shared with her brother. The inside of the trailer was plush and extravagant, somehow larger than it appeared from the outside.

Her brother was seated at the vanity, having already changed out of his stage clothes and in the process of removing his makeup. She came up behind him and leaned on the back of his chair.

“You missed a spot Dip,” she said, pulling his bangs away from his forehead. He swatted her hand away, scowling. 

“The blonde one is promising,” she reported. “The little one… less so.”

To anyone else the young man’s face would seem just as impassive as it had before. But to his twin, it was clear that his mind was moving a mile a minute. 

“I still don’t know why we have to go through all of this.” She said with a sigh. “Let’s just take whatever we came for and leave this hellhole.”

The young man put away the makeup remover and stood, pushing back his chair.

“Patience Mabel.”

She rolled her eyes as he went over to the shelf of books by his bed and drew out a tome.

“As if you even know why we’re waiting.”

He sat on the bed and opened the book, not gracing her with a response. She huffed, annoyed, and turned to the mirror to primp. When she was satisfied, she smiled.

“Fine,” she said, “But I’m going to have some fun while we’re here.”


End file.
